


Road to the White House

by plalligator



Category: Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard - Rick Riordan, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: American Politics, F/M, Female Character of Color, Future Fic, Gen, Genderfluid Character, Interviews, Journalism, Minor Original Character(s), Multi, Muslim Character, News Media, POV Original Character, Political Campaigns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-16
Updated: 2016-12-16
Packaged: 2018-09-09 01:34:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8870632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plalligator/pseuds/plalligator
Summary: To say Samirah al-Abbas’s rise has been meteoric is to undersell it.(Interview first published in The New Yorker magazine in July 2042)





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pageleaf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pageleaf/gifts).



> this is for pageleaf, my main babe and the light of my life. HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABE, I WROTE YOU THIS BECAUSE I LOVE YOU, ALSO IT WAS A LOT OF FUN.
> 
> this is not quite an au, more a half-step away from canon where gods and magic still exist but magnus and alex aren't permanently trapped in the bodies of 17-yr-olds

Road to the White House

July 21, 2042

To say Samirah al-Abbas’s rise has been meteoric is to undersell it. Ms. Al-Abbas is the first Muslim and only the second woman to win a major party nomination. She is also one of the youngest people to win the nomination since John F. Kennedy in 1960. Her campaign seems to have come out of nowhere, taking many by surprise as it gained state after state in the primaries. When I sit down with Ms. al-Abbas to discuss her past, her present, and where her campaign will take her next, I ask what we all have been wondering: did she ever expect to get this far?

“Of course, I have been incredibly awed and humbled by the support I have received along the way,” she says. She is smaller in person, with intelligent dark eyes and a permanent thoughtful crease in her brow. “Allah has been very generous with me. There were a lot of naysayers at the beginning of the campaign, people who thought I was too Muslim or too female to run for president. I’ve been dealing with those people my whole life, and anyone who knows me can tell you I don’t respond well to people telling me ‘you can’t’. In a way, I always knew I would end up here. It was just a matter of how long it took. If I’d lost the nomination—well, I’d have been back eventually. Same if I lose in November. Anyone on the campaign can tell you that, too.” 

Certainly Ms. al-Abbas has shown that she doesn’t give up in the face of adversity. Born to a single mother who died when her daughter was still young and raised by elderly grandparents, young Samirah was reportedly an excellent student and a hard worker. After high school, she joined the Air Force, where she gained her bachelor’s and became a certified search-and-rescue pilot. Her experience in the Air Force is what prompted her to enter politics.

“A lot of my experiences in the 101st [referring to the 101st Rescue Squadron, stationed in Westhampton Beach, NY; the unit Ms. al-Abbas was with for seven years] opened my eyes to real systemic issues we face in this country. Our servicemen and women do great work, but I kept seeing things that I wanted to fix and change on a scale I couldn’t in the military. ”

So she and her husband, Amir Fadlan, and their two-year old daughter Ayesha moved back to Boston. She immersed herself in local politics and had her second child. In 2030, after a long and closely fought campaign, she won her Senate race to become the first Muslim senator from Massachusetts. There, for perhaps the first time in her driven life, she experienced a major roadblock. 

“Those six years were some of the hardest of my life,” says Ms. al-Abbas of her first term in the Senate. “I really mean it! In the Air Force I was used to seeing immediate results from my actions, I could say, okay, we saved this many people today, this is what we accomplished. I went to the Senate wanting to get things done, and I couldn’t understand why it wasn’t working. It was hard to adjust to the speed of the Senate, the negotiation that has to take place. People kept telling me that’s how the sausage gets made and I was like, I’m a Muslim! Why do we have to have the sausage in the first place?” She laughs.

But she soon found her footing, and her co-sponsorship of a bill aimed at providing healthcare for homeless veterans brought her name to national prominence. She finished out her term as senator, and was reelected in a landslide. Then, in 2041, five years into her second term, she declared her candidacy for president. 

::

Ms. al-Abbas has been favorably compared to former President Barack Obama, but in truth she is much more of a firebrand than the cautious and measured President Obama. Though obviously intelligent, she’s not an intellectual like the former president, and she fully admits that political compromise does not come easy to her. For a politician, al-Abbas is remarkably clear-eyed and frank about her flaws, one of the qualities her supporters point to as evidence of her trustworthiness. Certainly in an era of non-apologies from politicians caught in illicit affairs, her genuine self-reflection is refreshing. 

“I know I can be inflexible,” she says. “That’s something I’ve had to work on a lot—to be willing to approach things from different angles, embrace ambiguity instead of fighting it.”

She may have advantages that President Obama did not, however. Like him, she polls strongly among Latino and black Americans and young, college-educated voters, but her military service and relentless advocacy on behalf of veterans have increased her popularity among some conservative groups. 

That’s not to say everything is sunshine and roses with the al-Abbas campaign. As it became apparent that she was a serious challenger on the national stage, she faced vitriol from all sides. Evangelical Christian groups held screaming protests outside her rallies. She was lambasted mercilessly by right-wing media, and had to have her security detail increased when she began getting death threats. 

“I want to believe it’s a vocal minority,” says al-Abbas about the controversy that has accompanied her campaign. “But the truth is I’ve been dealing with hate like this my whole life, and it’ll take more than bullies to scare me off. If I win in November, inshallah, then I will still endeavor to protect all citizens of this country, regardless of whether they agree with me or not.”

It’s statements like this that have earned al-Abbas the respect and admiration of many. It’s clear she means every word, and for such a small woman, her resolves seems unbreakable. Her appeal stems from her sincerity and straightforward, no-nonsense attitude. She exhibits a quiet kind of patriotism, one that does not violently champion American exceptionalism but that is deeply rooted in the idea of doing real and lasting good for its citizens. 

She is not always sanguine about insults, though. In March of this year, prominent far-right blogger and pundit Lucas Vane went after al-Abbas’s husband, restaurant owner Amir Fadlan, calling into question his origins, his ethics, and his business practices. Ms. al-Abbas reportedly met with her team to discuss an appropriate public response, but before she could get to it, a recording leaked of a furious al-Abbas’s private reaction to Mr. Vane’s comments and promptly went viral. The ferocity of her response was startling even to those who knew her well; one source close to the campaign was quoted as saying “it was the angriest I had ever seen her, even that time with lowkey [sic] and the hammer.” Evidently, al-Abbas was willing to tolerate attacks on herself, but her husband was a different story.

On the eve of Super Tuesday, it looked as if al-Abbas was in a tight spot. She refused to comment or offer an apology, and the harsh language she used in the recording led to a drop in the polls. In the end, it was Mr. Fadlan himself who smoothed things over by appearing on The Daily Show. Fadlan had stayed in the background of the campaign thus far, choosing to focus on raising the couple’s two young daughters, and The Daily Show was his first major solo appearance. A handsome man in his mid-forties with gentle eyes and silvery stubble, he immediately proved to be an easygoing and endearing foil to his wife, bantering with host Ripley Bee-Jones and cracking jokes about the Red Sox prospects in the World Series. 

“I guess some people are probably thinking I shouldn’t let my wife fight my battles for me,” said Fadlan when asked about the Vane incident. “But the truth is that Samirah is the strongest and most amazing person I’ve ever known. I’m happy to just to support her and the girls. It doesn’t really matter what people say about me—I’m not the one running for president, after all. That being said, we’ve actually seen a spike in business at Fadlan’s Falafels since Mr. Vane’s show, so, uh,” he shrugged. “Thanks for the free publicity, man.” 

::

I've always wanted to help people,” al-Abbas explains simply when I ask what drives her. “You could say it’s in my blood. My mother was a helper, she was a doctor—that’s how she met my father.”

The topic of her father is a touchy one for Ms. al-Abbas. On the campaign trail she rarely shied away from a confrontation, but has been notoriously tight-lipped on her parentage, leading to a slew of conspiracy theories championed by right-wing and anti-Islam pundits akin to the 2008 “birther” scandal. 

“My father is not in the picture,” she says, with the same steely firmness that has won her many a debate. “He’s never been part of my life in any meaningful way. Maybe if things were different I would have tried to reconnect with him, but his behavior has shown that he’s not a trustworthy individual.” She pauses. “In some ways, I understand. He had a hard life, and people did make assumptions about him because of how he was born. But in the end, he made choices he didn’t have to make. Choices that hurt people. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to reconcile that.”

Isn’t this animosity strange, I ask her, given her closeness to her half-sibling by the same father Alex Fierro, a sculptural artist and advocate for LGBT youth? 

(Note: Ms. Fierro is genderfluid and alternates between male and female pronouns. We have consulted with the al-Abbas campaign and received permission to refer to Ms. Fierro by female pronouns for the duration of this article.)

“Alex is amazing,” says Ms. al-Abbas seriously. “We didn’t know each other till we were teenagers, and we got off to a rocky start, but since then we’ve been through a lot together and she’s honestly the best sister I could have ever asked for. That’s the one thing I’m grateful to our father for, is that I got to know Alex.” 

But Fierro isn’t just a beloved family member—she is also a trusted confidant of Ms. al-Abbas and advises her on LGBT issues.

“When you get to a certain position, it’s difficult to find people who will challenge you. My staffers are great, but they primarily know me as a senator and a veteran, and, well,” she laughs, “I can be a little overbearing. The great thing about having someone who’s known you since you were a teenager is that they’re not going to be overawed by you. Alex is never afraid to tell me when I mess up. In fact, I think she enjoys it a little too much. Siblings are like that.” 

::

When we sit down together, al-Abbas is dressed casually in a floral-print cotton hijab and light blue chambray shirt over charcoal trousers. She’s been something of a trending topic among the same fashion bloggers who once followed Michelle Obama since she showed to the first Democratic primary debate in a cream linen suit and coral blouse with matching hijab, vibrant and eye-catching in a sea of grey and black suits. When I compliment her on her outfit, she demurs, giving credit to her stylist. 

“I’ve never been that big into fashion,” she says. “I mostly look for comfort and utility in my clothes. But when we started the campaign, my stylist sat me down and said, ‘Samirah, we are going to make you the best-dressed candidate out there.’ And I think I can say without it sounding like I’m bragging that he’s done it. People will always criticize your appearance as a woman in the public sphere, and it can be hard to be taken seriously. If I were a male politician, you wouldn’t even be asking me about my outfit. But Blitz has helped me find a style that really works for me, that is emblematic of the kind of woman I am and the kind of politician I want to be.” 

Hence the lack of boxy pantsuits and chunky heels. Al-Abbas’ fashion choices signal a refusal to blend in, with bright colors that bring out the glow in her brown skin and gorgeously-textured hijabs. She does not downplay her differences from elderly white male legislators, she emphasizes them. 

_“Here I am,”_ she seems to say. _“Get used to it.”_

::

The al-Abbas team has an all-hands strategy meeting this afternoon. They are coming down off the high of the convention and beginning to hash out their plan for the months ahead. On her way there, al-Abbas takes a video call from Fadlan, calling from Boston to chat and relay a story about their younger daughter that had al-Abbas chuckling all the way down the hall.

“I’m a serious person, I take things seriously,” she explains. “In the Senate, I was always like, okay, let’s get this done, and let’s get this done, and let’s get this done. Amir helps me to slow down and see the lighter side of things.” She laughs. “He’s always trying to feed me up. Like, ‘honey, did you have enough to eat today? I’ve got some leftover chicken kebab!' Now he’s got the girls doing it too.” 

The staff packs into a conference room at campaign headquarters. There are boxes of doughnuts out: halal, gluten-free, and normal. True to form, the campaign prides itself on the diversity of its members, and the room is a mix of ages, ethnicities, and careers. I spoke to college students from Boston U, Harvard, and the U Chicago School of Public Policy; as well as to journalists, activists, and veterans. Al-Abbas calls the meeting to order. She thanks everyone for being there, touching on the hard work it took to get the campaign to this point and the even harder work of the coming months. 

“I couldn’t have done this without each and every one of you,” she says, looking around the room. “Let’s keep up the good work and win this thing, inshallah.” There’s a round of applause and she takes a donut and sits down, ceding the floor to her campaign manager, Annabeth Chase. Ms. Chase, a tall blond woman with piercing grey eyes, is a superhero in her own right: a high-powered architect by trade whose eye for tactics and attention to detail have earned her the nickname “the Admiral” in the campaign’s inner circle. 

The two women met through Chase’s cousin and al-Abbas’s close friend from her teenage years, Magnus Chase, and hit it off immediately. Their friendship deepened when al-Abbas’s Air Force posting brought her to New York, where Chase and her husband, Percy Jackson Chase, live. The Chases were the al-Abbas family’s favored babysitters when both couples lived in New York.

Chase was reportedly initially reluctant to make the jump to politics, and al-Abbas did consider more typical political operatives for the position, but says that Chase was always her first choice. al-Abbas’s instinct paid off: Chase has risen admirably to the position. Now she calls on a couple polling specialists to summarize the post-convention results. Halfway through, she leans over to murmur something to al-Abbas, and the two women put their heads together. Chase takes notes on a laptop. When the polling specialists are finished, she gets up and begins to sketch out on a whiteboard the campaign’s timeline and battle plan for the coming months: speeches, debates, events in key swing states. The pressure will be high. In addition to her presidential campaigning, al-Abbas is still a sitting senator and although the Senate is out of session for the rest of July and most of August, there are still things she has to take care of in Washington. 

Chase opens the floor to discussion and suggestion from the rest of the team. She makes a point of calling on junior and female staffers, taking their input as seriously as any of the senior operatives. Al-Abbas is mainly silent during this discussion, listening intently to the conversation. Ultimately, it is she and Chase, along with a couple other campaign leaders, who will make the final decisions.

When no one else has anything to add, Chase thanks the group and dismisses them. I am politely ushered out of the room with the rest of the junior staffers while the senior staffers, al-Abbas, and Chase consult in private but am allowed to rejoin later, when al-Abbas’s personal assistant catches up with her outside the conference room. They talk logistics and scheduling as al-Abbas gets a coffee. 

“Magnus left a message, he and Alex are taking a vacation. They’ll be back the first week of August. He says you know how to get in touch if you need them.”

“Did Alex sign off on that message?” says al-Abbas, sounding amused. 

“Not exactly. Alex would prefer you not to get in touch, she, sorry, _he_ says he wants to spend time with his boyfriend and the campaign can wait.” 

Al-Abbas laughs. 

“Fair enough. Anything else?” 

“Blitz wants you for a session to discuss your wardrobe for the rest of the campaign. I put him on Tuesday, and on Wednesday you’re off to Michigan. Speech at the University of Michigan, then one at the Islamic Center in Dearborn. Do you want the rest of your week?” 

“Why don’t you go ahead and sync it to my calendar?” 

“Sure thing.” 

Their discussion is cut short when al-Abbas’s phone chimes, reminding her to perform her afternoon prayers. She excuses herself to her office, where she has a prayer rug that gets a lot of use, considering the long hours she puts in and the five daily prayers required in Islam. I watch from the corner as she kneels and touches her forehead to the rug, murmuring in Arabic. Her face is rapt, focused. It is the most unguarded I have seen her all day. For all that she has been frank and public about her observance of Islam, there is something very private about this moment between al-Abbas and her God. 

It only takes a few minutes, and she is rising again. She straightens her blouse and adjusts her hijab, a moment of calm before she returns to battle. As she exits her office, there's a small knot of staffers waiting for her. 

"Back to it," she says with a wry smile, striding forward to meet whatever comes.

**Author's Note:**

> this was spawned from a twitter convo we had post-election with blindmadness (who was also my fantastic beta for this): http://plalligator.tumblr.com/post/154493532037/important-convo-on-twitter-with-pageleaf-and
> 
> this is very much in the spirit of the dark political times we are facing now and the brighter future that i hope will come. (on that note: i very much hope it doesn't take till 2042 for another woman or the first muslim to win a presidential nomination, i just didn't want to think up thirty years of political history.) i made up lucas vane (the conservative blogger) and the host of the daily show is, at blindmadness's suggestion, one of sam bee and jason jones' kids.
> 
> whats percy doing in all this, you ask? fuck man i dont know. swimming with the dolphins i guess.


End file.
